


Snapshots

by Rizobact



Series: Curb Finds [12]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-18 03:46:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5896921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rizobact/pseuds/Rizobact
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few brief glimpses into the lives of some of Cybertron's most beloved couples for the pairing meme on tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Looking at Old Photographs (CxTG)

**Author's Note:**

> [Cyclonus and Tailgate](http://rizobact.tumblr.com/post/138181775151/cygate-for-the-pairing-meme) quietly share memories and pictures.

“Hey Cyclonus, what’s that?” Tailgate asked, noticing the unfamiliar flat squares on the desk for the first time. He placed his hands on the edge of the desk, trying to pull himself up to peer over and get a better look.

A soft huff escaped Cyclonus’s vents, but Tailgate could tell he was amused rather than annoyed. It let him anticipate the clawed hands that appeared at his waist to lift him into the larger mech’s lap. One hand remained there to brace him while the other reached out to pull one of the squares closer.

Tailgate took it, picking it up and studying it intently. There was an image on it, grainy and poor quality, and the minibot couldn’t make out what it was supposed to be. He turned it this way and that, trying to work out which way was meant to be up. Finally he gave up and looked up at Cyclonus. “Come on, tell me! What is it? I mean, I can see it’s a picture, but it’s not a very good picture, is it? Why do you have it?”

“It is a photograph,” Cyclonus explained, taking it and rotating it one turn to the left in Tailgate’s hand. “A print of one of the great buildings in Iacon from long ago.”

“Oh.” Tailgate turned back to study it again. “I sort of see it? I mean, I think I see it.” He glanced at the other photos on the desk. “Are they all old buildings?”

He felt the nod above him, a short movement as Cyclonus pulled forward another. “The concert hall in Crystal City,” he said simply, tapping it gently. Then another: “The Cultural Center in Praxus.”

Tailgate settled back into Cyclonus’s lap as he continued, sometimes simply naming the building depicted, other times giving a brief history of its construction and purpose. They spent the rest of the afternoon together quietly looking at the old photographs.


	2. A Late Night Conversation (DxR)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Rodimus and Drift](http://rizobact.tumblr.com/post/138240196121/to-that-pairing-meme-rodimus-x-drift-3) don't do a very good job of sleeping.

“…Drift?” Rodimus said quietly into the blackness of his habsuite. “Psst! Drift. Are you asleep?”

There was no answer from the mech lying next to him. Drift’s engine continued its soft idle without any change in rhythm, but Rodimus wasn’t buying it. “Driiiift…I know you’re not asleep.”

Still no response. Rodimus rolled over and poked at Drift’s helm finial, tapping his finger against the tip softly but repeatedly. “Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up _phfft_!”

The last “wake up” wound up significantly distorted by Drift snagging a spare pillow and backhanding it into Rodimus’s face. Rodimus continued to splutter as he sat up and the pillow fell into his lap. “Hey, what was that for?” he asked with his best pout. “I just wanted to ask you a question!”

Drift had turned his helm to glare up at Rodimus over his shoulder, but the stern expression didn’t last long. With a slow grin, he started chuckling quietly, then really laughed as his friend continued to feign injury from the harmless projectile. “Well, I’m awake now. What is it?”

Rodimus narrowed his optics suspiciously. “You weren’t asleep, were you?”

“That’s your question?” Drift asked, still laughing. “You woke me up to ask if I was sleeping?”

“No!” Rodimus shot back, though he was grinning now too. “I made you stop _pretending_ to sleep so I could ask you if you thought it was too quiet in here.”

“If I thought – Rodimus!” Drift grabbed the pillow back from Rodimus to hit him with it playfully again. “No, it’s most certainly not too quiet in here.”

“Not _now_ it isn’t,” Rodimus said, “but it was a few seconds ago.”

“Rodimus,” Drift said, levering himself up to a sitting position. “If you weren’t really ready to recharge, you could have just said so.”

“You looked really tired though,” Rodimus protested, though his restless fidgeting made it obvious he definitely had too much energy to sleep.

Drift smiled. “Not so tired I can’t help wear you out.”

It was quite a while before either of them got any sleep.


	3. Making Up After an Argument (JxP)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Jazz and Prowl](http://rizobact.tumblr.com/post/138269080741/jazzprowl-pls) apologize and reconcile.

It had gone on long enough. Jazz knew it had, and he knew he needed to apologize. That didn’t make knocking on the door to Prowl’s office any easier, especially when the SIC raised icy optics to regard him coldly with no trace of welcome on his face. “Commander Jazz.” His voice was frigid too, and Jazz fought down the urge to shiver.

“Hi,” he said lamely, still standing in the hall. “Uh, can I come in? I need to tell you somethin’.”

Prowl stared at him for a long moment before nodding curtly. “You may. Please be brief, I am very busy.”

Jazz didn’t wait for him to change his mind, scooting into the room quickly before approaching the desk more slowly. “Okay, briefly then,” he said, swallowing his pride. “I’m sorry. ‘Bout the things I said, the other day. I wasn’t thinking and I didn’t mean ‘em, but that’s no excuse cuz it hurt you, so – I apologize.” He paused, waiting for a response.

It was slow in coming. Prowl didn’t say anything right away, his frame stiff as he considered Jazz’s words. “What specifically are you apologizing for?” he asked at last.

 _I hate when he does that._ Jazz sighed internally. _That question’s a trap and I never guess right what he wants to hear._ Usually that would have had him getting angry, but this time he couldn’t bring himself to feel anything other than resigned. “Look Prowl, I didn’t come here to play games, I just came to say I made a mistake and I’m done bein’ mad that you got mad. What I said was uncalled for; I deserved what you said back. You need to be mad some more, then that’s fine. I deserve that too.” He smiled sadly. “I really am sorry.”

This time he didn’t wait for Prowl to say anything. Jazz started to leave, hoping he’d said enough to at least speed up Prowl’s forgiveness. He’d just reached the door when he heard Prowl stand up from his desk. Jazz pulled up short, waiting as he listened to Prowl’s footsteps slowly crossing the room until he stood directly behind him.

The hug came as a complete surprise. Jazz let out an undignified squeak as Prowl’s arms encircled him, then relaxed into the embrace. “So…” he said carefully, afraid to do anything to upset Prowl again. “You’re not still mad then?”

“No,” Prowl said softly against the side of his helm. “I stopped being mad yesterday. I did, however, still want an apology.” His hold tightened. “What you said was unkind.”

“Unkind and untrue,” Jazz said quickly. “I’m sorry.”

“One apology is enough,” Prowl told him. “I know you mean it.”

Jazz brought his hands up over Prowl’s, holding them in place on his frame as they swayed together slightly. “Then we’re okay?” he asked, a short pop of hopeful static punctuating his sentence.

“Yes,” Prowl said. “We are now.”


End file.
